


Bijou

by PrittlePrince



Series: Andromeda [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Animagus Johnny, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Mark Lee finds his Magic, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-01 23:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince
Summary: Mark steps into Johnny's world, and Johnny keeps his promise to show Mark his own inner magic.





	Bijou

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of the Verse I started with Eve's gift!
> 
> So much special Libra love-magic to my dear wife who read this trough twice before I was satisfied with it <3 <3 <3

The sky is grey and the ground is cold and hard. Sunlight struggles to reach the earth and Mark shuffles from foot to foot, hands tucked under his arms for warmth. His glasses fog and his breath hangs in the air. It condenses on his scarf, resting damp against his chin.

He stares at the place where two buildings meet, anxious and unsure. This is where he’s supposed to be. This is where he’s supposed to wait. 

He stares at the grey cement, feeling like a madman.

He approaches it all with an open heart but it really is all a little new to him. Magic, after all, is supposed to be a fairy tale. He’s watched Johnny heal cuts, draw patterns in midair, and even make things appear from nothing. Food, clothing… even lube. Mark’s face heats as he vividly remembers that particular detail. It’s really come in handy.

It’s with that same sense of disbelief that he watches Johnny appear from between the two buildings as through right out of thin air. He’s wearing his work cloak, a handsome charcoal grey. Mark has learned very little, still, about Johnny’s career. Sometimes he comes home smelling singed, but he never appears too put-out. Mark is just happy Johnny comes home. _Home_. The thought makes Mark’s heart swell.

Johnny’s smile when he sees Mark is warm, eager.

“That was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.” Mark whines as Johnny approaches.

Grin spreading even wider, Johnny sweeps Mark into his arms. He kisses him slowly, deeply and Mark feels the weight of Johnny’s affection like a balm against the outside world. Mark relaxes in his hold and Johnny hums, pleased. Johnny always takes what he wants and Mark finds that he’s never minded, not even once.

Stepping back, Johnny allows his wand to drop from his sleeve into his palm, and he waves in subtly between them, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Yeah, I’m ready. I’m excited… and nervous?” He pulls Johnny close and presses his nose into his coat lapel. “Will it be weird if I stick close?” He twines his fingers with Johnny’s.

The sun spears the clouds finally, dappling the pavement. It catches in Johnny’s hair, warm undertones shining and twisting in the breeze. His expression is open, considering. He shakes his head.

Mark’s gaze travels to his mouth as it so often does. He takes in the cat-like curl of Johnny’s smile and leans up on his toes.

Johnny doesn’t hesitate, bending to capture Mark’s lips in a brief peck.

“Sorry I’m so nervous, man. I just… this is pretty wild for me. I don’t even know what to do!”

Johnny levels him with a _look_ and Mark flushes, embarrassed. Johnny leads him with their joined hands and walks towards the wall he’s just appeared out of. He starts to step forward but Mark holds him back, stock-still on the sidewalk.

“Really? We just walk through?”

Johnny nods.

“What if it, like… lets you through, but not me?” Mark shuffles again, glancing around them to see if any passerby has noticed the two men staring strangely at the blank wall of a building.

Johnny squeezes his hand, and tugs. Mark marvels at the way his body simple seems to cease existing, as though he’s walked through a door. Mark stares down at their joined hands, and braces himself before allowing himself to be pulled through.

There’s a brief, strange sensation, the familiar tingle of magic all over his body. One moment he’s on a busy street, cold and grey and then next heat is licking at his face from a lit sconce near the entrance of what appears to be a narrow street, bustling with activity. It looks, and smells like a market. Stalls line both walls and steam rises in the air. Drifting towards them is the excited din of hundreds of people.

Mark’s stomach gurgles in sudden hunger and he wraps his free arm around himself. Johnny chuckles and tugs him along. He’s excited to show Mark a good time. To open up his world gently and wondrously bit by bit until Mark sees how special the magic he holds really is. How unlikely.

There’s no doubt Johnny would normally be striding with confidence through the throng of people, his long legs carrying him with ease to that day’s destination. Now, he is patient as Mark slows to stare openly at the people, the food, the marvels.

Mark takes in the appearance of the witches and wizards. Beautiful waist-coats and handsome woollen cloaks and scarves. Mark feels underdressed.

"Am I dressed right? I think... I look like a no-maj?" He meets Johnny's eyes, unsure, and Johnny kisses him, soft and light as people pass them by. He pulls back and slides his palm flat down Mark's chest, fingers digging into the cashmere of his coat. His gaze is fond.

"Yeah, yeah... alright." Mark allows himself to be pulled close for another gentle kiss to his cheek and then they're walking again, Johnny at his side. Despite the unusual atmosphere, Mark feels a sense of belonging pressed close to Johnny’s body.

A pet shop draws his full attention, and he stops to peer into the long, high-ceiling of the tent. Birds squawk from swaying cages near the roof. A cat steps out to the street to wrap around his legs and Mark kneels down to scratch behind its ears. It meows up at him, face fat and soft and Mark feels his heart melt.

“Ohhh, look at you!”

Johnny makes a noise and when Mark peers up at him through his fringe, Johnny’s nose is wrinkled. Mark grins.

“Are you jealous?”

Johnny rolls his eyes. Mark gives the cat a final pat on it’s bottom before it wanders back into the tent with a bothered yell.

They twine their hands and drift down the street. The people around them are polite, despite how packed it is. Mark notices that everyone says an “oops, sorry” if they bump into him, and smile if he happens to catch their eye. Most are dressed formally, yet eclectic. They’re prepared for the cold autumn air, but Mark finds it’s been deliciously warm ever since they crossed the barrier.

They stop to eat, Mark clasping his hands together in glee as he chooses between sauced noodles or dim sum, and Johnny looks at him like the meal’s already begun. 

With steam rising into the cool air, Johnny watches him eat with interest, just as he always does. Mark eats voraciously, never shy about food. When they’re full and sated, Johnny leads him down the street. People are packed less closely and tents and stalls turn into shops that rise tall and haphazard as the street begins to wind. They pause before a tall, narrow building. It’s third and fourth floors seem to rise at an impossible angle towards the sky. Johnny opens the door and urges him inside.

It’s well-lit with warm light - each lamp’s shine diffused with aged glass. Slender boxes, the length of Mark's forearm, are floating through the air, stocking themselves on tall shelves that extend the length of the room.

"Ah! Johnny Suh! Why... it's been such a long time since I've seen you!" Something shifts in the corner, and what Mark had assumed was a pile of blankets turns to reveal a woman, hunched ever-so-slightly. Her eyes, bright and green, gleam out from the shadow of her hood. She approaches them with a wide grin, and her teeth are perfect and straight. She has the dusting of a subtle moustache above her upper lip and Mark quite likes the way it only seems to add to her strange handsome glamour.

"Suh..." Mark mumbles to himself, and Johnny fingers at his elbow with a smile.

"Acacia wood with a core of Jackalope antler... a highly unusual seventeen inches to match the stature of its owner. Complex and intriguing." She takes a few steps closer and Johnny shakes his wand into his hand for inspection. The woman peers at it as though at a favourite child.

"A very handsome wand if I do say so myself. I can honestly tell you I've never made a wand like it since." She pushes her hood back from her face and a mane of wild, curly red hair tumbles loose to her shoulders.

She looks much smaller without the excessive fabric, and Mark would guess she must be in her seventies if not for the knowledge that witches age differently and so he's not entirely sure if his guess matters at all. Her hair still shines a fiery auburn of youth.

The woman's gaze falls to him and Mark freezes, uncertain. 

"Maxine Thicknesse..." Her tone is slow, syrupy as her eyes wander over Mark's frame. He swallows. "Wand maker."

"Ma-," Mark starts, hand rising to shake hers.

"Yes! Mark Lee. Son of Jung-ho and Myung-sook." 

Mark balks at her.

"How-"

She ignores him, reaching forward to grip him by his shoulder and lead him further into the shop. She's quite pushy, Mark notes. Johnny, when he glances back at him, is gazing with interest at a stack of wand-polish, seemingly unconcerned.

"I must say, Mister Lee. It's quite unusual for me to get the chance to meet you considering both of your parents are muggle born." She continues to shuffle Mark along. "Do you have other magical relatives. An aunt, perhaps?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He murmurs when she stops them to climb a narrow ladder and pull a slender, handsome box from a high shelf. "Better, even. I'm still... figuring this all out."

She peers down at him knowingly.

"Yes, I suppose you are." Her knees shake as she descends the ladder and then she sets aside the lid of the box and gingerly lifts out a wand.

"Vine and unicorn hair, eleven inches." She holds it out for him, and Mark notes Johnny has wandered closer, eyeing the interaction with interest. "A little uncommon, perhaps. Just like you." Her eyes glitter up at him from her hunched posture.

Mark doesn't know if that’s a compliment or not, but he reaches out to grip the wand, unsure at first and then more solidly when he feels the magical power within spread and warm all the way down to his wrist.

"Wow..." He looks up at the two of them, who are gazing at him expectantly.

"Well... do something!" Maxine's voice is impatient and Mark starts.

"I don't know... I don't know how to do magic!"

"Oh dear.. well just, flick and swish. Put some purpose into it. Just try to... materialize some magic from the tip of your wand." She gives him a nudge. "Go on!"

He raises the wand between them and imagines how Johnny had drawn shapes in midair. He focuses on the image in his mind and directs that focus to his wand. When he opens his eyes, gold glitter is beading at the tip of the wand and dripping down viscous like sap. It's... pretty. But not what he had been imagining.

"Hmm... no. That’s not right. But you have magic in you, yet. Hold tight." She takes the wand from him, and Mark feels the warmth fade from his palm. He shuffles from foot to foot as Maxine meanders further down a dim aisle and disappears.

Johnny's arms come up to drape over his shoulders, and Mark allows himself to be pulled in.

"Sorry- I'm.. I'm nervous. I'm not normally this anxious."

Johnny nuzzles into his temple and squeezes him tighter. Mark wishes more than anything he could hear the words Johnny is so clearly pressing to his skin. His presence, though, is calming. His breath behind Mark's ear spreads goosebumps that disappear under his scarf and spread through his body. Mark longs to turn into him, but it isn't appropriate to feed into these whims now. 

Not with the unnervingly knowing look Maxine has in her eyes when she appears beside them.

"Willow and Dragon heartstring core. Fourteen inches. It's got a..." She discards the lid of the box, lifting the wand out with a curious expression. "A strange... _knot_ in the wood. I wouldn't normally keep a wand with such an obvious visual defect in my stock, but it's proven to behave naturally. It's unique, of that much I'm certain." She presses the wand into Mark's hand, and he feels the power rush over him with a _whoosh_. He staggers, and Johnny catches him against his chest.

"Oh- it's... different."

"Indeed." She grins at him.

He raises the wand and closes his eyes, attempting to visualize the same as before. He feels the wand trying to vibrate out of his hand this time, and when he focuses on creating gold from the tip of the wand he's nearly thrown back.

Johnny catches him again, and Mark's eyes shoot open. The sound of wood splintering and cracking fills his ears and then Maxine is plucking the wand from his fingers, tutting. Half of her shop appears to be in disarray and gold flecks drift from the ceiling, landing in their hair.

There’s an uncomfortable silence before one of the shelves buckles and splits, sending hundreds of boxes tumbling to the floor. Mark feels his blood run cold.

"Oh god... _oh god_, I'm sorry, I don't know-"

She hushes him and produces her own wand. She waves it towards the mess and the boxes begin to sort themselves on the quickly-repairing shelf. Mark wants to cry.

"Too powerful..." she mutters as she wanders away from them again.

"Oh god." Mark feels like his chest is a bit tight.

Johnny squeezes him, rubbing his arms.

Mark wonders how much longer this will go on. How much more damage will he inflict before they find a suitable wand for him? Somehow, he feels this has a lot to do with having not grown up used to it all, the possibilities, the expectations... Johnny has given him a lot of assurances but it's all just uncomfortable enough that Mark wonders if he's really cut out for it at all.

As if reading his thoughts, Johnny turns him. His expression is a little tight as he raises his thumb to Mark's brow, pushing at the tension there and Mark chuckles, blinking up at him. Their hands join and Johnny raises one of Mark’s between them, palm up.

One finger presses to Mark's skin and gold blooms and shimmers where they touch. Johnny draws his finger in a lazy circle and Mark stares at their joined hands before he has to shut his eyes, heart heavy. Johnny leans in to kiss him. He's never shy. He touches Mark as much as he wants and somehow in the absence of voice, Mark loves the possession those touches carry.

Their hands tingle, warm with magic, and Johnny's kiss lingers, teeth running along Mark's bottom lip.

“Thank you,” Mark breathes.

Johnny makes a pleased sound and Mark feels it lodge somewhere in the pit of his stomach. His shoulders loosen, bit by bit.

"Come on, now," He murmurs, smile creeping onto this face. "Don't start that here..." And Mark chuckles as Johnny's hands spread over his waist, pulling them impossibly closer.

"Johnny _Suh_," and _god_ it feels good to say it, "you better keep your hands to yourself or I swear-" Johnny bites at his lips again and Mark holds back his helpless little groan just as it threatens to rumble through his chest.

Johnny releases him, and his eyes are dark when he pulls back. His mouth is spread in a wide, cat-like smile.

"Just gotten the cream, have you?" Mark admonishes, poking Johnny in the stomach and turning away as the floorboards creep with Maxine's approach.

"Mister Mark Lee..." Maxine's tone is considering as she blows a bit of dust off the box in her hands. "Please try this."

This time, the wand she pulls out is strangely thin, and long. It is perfectly straight, but Mark notices the wood has an unusual grain to it. There are knots towards the base, polished to a high shine, and they are dark as though the wood has been burnt. The colour lightens to that of sand half-way up. 

It's… interesting, Mark thinks.

"Sycamore wood, 15 inches. Unusually... thin." She remarks, twisting the wand in her fingers with an appreciative look. "Core of Thunderbird tail feather. Also unusual. The only one in my possession, in fact."

"Madame Thickness." Mark swallows, completely unsure about the honorific. "After what happened last time do you think I should try a less... _unusual_ wand?"

The wand-maker peers up at him, and the gleam of her green eyes roots Mark to the spot.

"Where's your sense of adventure, young man? This wand really appreciates a master with gumption. Is that you?" Her tone turns almost accusatory and Mark frowns, looking down at the wand. There's something so... appealing about it. He’s drawn in, and it's a curious feeling, somewhere just behind his navel.

"Yeah... yes." It isn't defiance in his voice, but Mark sets his jaw and nods.

"I have had this wand for almost fifty years, Mister Lee. It has never once yearned for another witch or wizard, or shown any interest at all." She spins it again in her fingers, nose wrinkling. "Truthfully I had wondered if... oh, well. Not important now." The necklaces and baubles that hang from her neck glimmer as she steps closer, and Mark holds his breath as she places the wand in his outstretched palm.

Mark has had to get used to a number of unfamiliar sensations lately, least of which has been the strange shiver of electricity that tends to travel his body whenever he comes into contact with magic.

The unexpected, budding affair with the handsome man standing close at his back has been the hardest to parse through. Things there seem almost too simple, too easy, too frictionless for Mark's curious mind to make sense of. His body responds to Johnny like a magnet, helplessly pulled in.

Now though, the sensation of his fingers curling around this wand is acutely different, yet reminds him of both. Warmth, the tingle of electricity. His heart filling to the brim with fondness and yearning. Those moments when he is busy, focused, and he glances up to see Johnny watching him with a warm expression. How fast his heart-rate rises.

Mark is silent, shocked. Maxine's expression pinches and she steps closer to peer up at him. Mark's gaze falls from the wand, to her.

"Different?" She asks.

"Different." He breathes, and she nods back at him.

"Go on, then."

When he raises the wand, it's almost as though something else is raising it with him, sharing in his intent. He twists his wrist, finding a more natural angle to hold the wand, and gives it a little swish in the air.

He doesn't close his eyes this time, only watches as the tip of his wand shimmers a warm rosy gold, and spills into the air. He doesn't have to think about what he wants to do. They move together naturally, and Mark draws a simple cat, like the one he'd seen earlier. It crouches, and then chases something in the air before running into a shelf and disappearing in a small pink cloud.

"That’s it! I think you've found your match, Mister Lee!" Maxine is emphatic as she clasps her hands together in obvious joy. Mark feels himself blush.

She plucks the wand from his fingers to lay it back down in its box and Mark thinks he feels the ground a little more, is suddenly just a little bit heavier. Johnny takes his hand and brings it to his lips, eyes shining with affection as he kisses Mark's knuckles. Mark closes his eyes.

He allows Johnny to take over after that and he's tugged back to the front of the shop in a daze. Maxine talks and talks and Mark tries to take note of her words, but his gaze is trained on his palm.

"Oh, he's really something, isn't he?"

He looks up at this, and Johnny is pushing coins across the wooden counter with a smile. He takes the box and tucks it under his arm and then he's giving a little wave, and pulling Mark with him to the door. 

Mark looks over his shoulder at Maxine, who smiles and waves, her ringed fingers glinting in the light.

"Johnny Suh, if I may..." Maxine's voice floats across the shop and Johnny pauses in the doorway as Mark steps into the street. He looks back at the wand-maker with interest.

"I appreciate your situation must be... difficult. I wish you luck."

Her gaze carries a sadness, and Johnny's jaw tenses. He closes his eyes and gives her a shallow bow before stepping into the sunlight and pulling the door snug behind him.

"Wild," Mark murmurs, still lost in thought, but Johnny urges him forward and away from the shop. He places his palm on the back of Mark's neck, and his fingertips slip into the hair at his nape.

As he’s lead back up towards the market, Mark can't stop glancing at the slender box tucked under Johnny’s arm. The grip at his neck tightens ever so slightly and Johnny’s rubs his thumb over Mark’s pulse. Goosebumps rise and spread and Mark breathes, content.

"When we're home?" Mark asks, and Johnny nods. _Home_, Mark thinks. It never quite felt like it before Johnny arrived in his life. He wonders where Johnny used to live. Was it here - in a place like this? Or outside, in the no-maj world?

_Is there really such a thing as a no-maj world?_ He wonders, chewing on his lips. _There must be witches and wizards everywhere, just out of sight._

Mark finds his body thrumming with a tired energy. Perhaps too much excitement for one day. He watches Johnny stride slow and comfortable. The autumn breeze just lightly ruffling his chestnut hair. Johnny, whose been pawing at him all day at the most unfortunate times. Something in Mark’s chest, like a comforting weight, blooms. The touch on the back of his neck sends goosebumps down his spine and he allows his eyes to drift shut, leaning into Johnny’s shoulder.

Johnny takes note of the weariness in Mark's shoulders, and pulls him tighter. He'd hoped to take Mark back to the pet store, but the sleepy tilt of Mark’s hair across his forehead speaks of a different plan. Mark sniffles in the autumn air and tucks his nose into his scarf and Johnny knows they need to go home. He pauses in the street, turning Mark to face him.

"What is it?" Mark asks, blinking up at him.

Johnny places his own hand on his chest and taps and Mark stares at him. He gives a little pull and Mark leans into his chest, tucking his head under Johnny's chin.

“Okay?” Mark murmurs into the wool. Johnny rumbles in response.

Mark gets only the barest warning of Johnny's grip tightening in his hair before he feels himself swept up, suddenly dizzy. He shuts his eyes and buries his face into Johnny's coat as wind and cold rush past him, and then he's suddenly landing with unsteady footing on wet cement. Grit crunches under his boots and Mark opens his eyes to see they're standing in front of their apartment building. The sun is just starting to set, and its casts them in a warm glow.

Shock still coursing through him, Mark doesn't know if he can pry his paralyzed fingers from his grip in Johnny's coat.

Johnny hums, and pulls Mark's hands into his own. His gaze is apologetic and Mark sucks in a breath before letting it out slowly, trying to slow his heart-rate.

"You have to warn a man..." His tone is admonishing, and Johnny pouts, sheepish.

"Don't start with that." Mark places his hands on Johnny's chest and pats him before stepping back. His legs feel like lead.

The smell of Johnny's cologne as Mark leans against him in the elevator is intoxicating, spicy and woodsy. He breathes him in and Johnny chuckles, voice low. Mark is quiet as he guides them down the hallway, keenly aware of Johnny's eyes on him as he fumbles with the keys to the apartment.

When they finally step into the entranceway Johnny is all slow hands, leaning Mark against the wall so he can help him out of his boots, his coat and scarf. Mark chuckles and pushes at him weakly, but Johnny only grins up at him with a restless energy.

"I'm too tired to play..." Mark whines when Johnny stands back up, hands heavy and warm on his waist. "You didn't even hang my coat up-"

Johnny kisses him, but there's restraint in it. He has a look of hunger when he pulls back, but he urges Mark further into the apartment without his hands wandering too much. The fireplace roars to life with a flick of his wrist, and he summons a blanket to wrap around Mark's shoulder before pulling them both down to the couch.

He sets the wand box on the coffee table, and pulls Mark to his chest, leaning back into the cushions.

Drowsy, Mark blinks sideways at the box on the table, eyelids heavy.

"Show me when we wake up?" Mark murmurs, his breath damp against Johnny's exposed collarbone. He feels the rumble of acknowledgment and lets himself drift. _Just a small nap_, he promises himself, burrowing closer.

-

It's dark when Johnny wakes but the fire glows bright in the room, catching and shining in Mark's inky hair. He presses his fingers into it, enjoying the pleasant weight of Mark stretched along his body. He sees the way Mark's breath changes, and runs his palm down along Mark's neck.

_Kiss me_, is what he wants to say. It's all he ever feels himself wanting to say these days. But because he can't, he just takes and hopes Mark will tell him if he ever wants him to stop. Mark sighs against him, stretching slightly, and Johnny's heart aches at the breathy sound.

"What time is it?" Mark murmurs, head rising to look up at Johnny. Johnny shrugs, and Mark sticks his tongue out.

Heart thudding, Johnny stares up at him for only a second before he’s lunging upwards, licking into Mark’s mouth.

His grip isn’t demanding, but his hands spread down the planes of Mark's back, pulling him ever-tighter to Johnny's own body. 

At that heavy touch, Mark moans against his mouth and Johnny boldly spreads his hands over Mark’s ass, kneading.

“Ohhhh-“ Mark spreads his thighs over Johnny’s hips and Johnny rocks up against him, his own groan low and trembling against Mark’s throat.

“God- you haven’t been able to stop touching me all day. Do you know how, guh-“ Johnny sucks under Mark’s jaw, growling low in his chest as he slides his hands into Mark’s jeans and grips him again, fingertips running dry over his rim. Mark marvels at just how long his fingers are, how easy his reach. He whines, clutching at Johnny’s chest and rutting back against him.

“-God, _infuriating_.” Mark’s voice is breathy, distracted and Johnny aches for him. 

Johnny loves the weight of Mark in his lap, loves the way his eyelashes spread dark shadows across the tops of his cheeks and his lips hang parted and red and slick. 

Catching his gaze, Mark sits up, balancing on his hands and Johnny _growls_ at Mark’s shuttered expression, the way he bits at his own lip. He slides a hand down Johnny’s stomach as he lewdly begins to roll his hips, rocking against Johnny’s cock as it steadily fills. 

Heat creeps up under his collar and Johnny sucks in a breath, dropping his head back onto the couch.

“You know, it’s crazy how often I find myself thinking you always seem to be wearing too many clothes.” Mark says. His voice is husky, and Johnny tries to be accommodating as Mark pushes at his layers of clothes. He’s still in his coat, but that doesn’t last long. He sits up and holds Mark tight to his waist as Mark peels the coat from his shoulders. 

It’s too easy to lean up and bite at Mark’s lips, lifting his arms when Mark tugs at his shirt. They part and Johnny takes him in, hand spreading over his front until he can push under Mark’s T-shirt and search out his nipples. He wants Mark so badly, almost can’t stand how it feels to have him writhing in his lap.

It’s a wonder, really, that Mark allowed him into his life, when Johnny never feels able to provide a solid explanation. He’s used to talking, almost incessantly. Since that time when he lost his voice, he’s gotten used to people’s expressions of confusion and pity. Mark has never looked at him like that, happy to talk enough for both of them. He doesn’t look at Johnny like anything is missing.

“God, I love the way you touch me,” He whispers, and Johnny releases a wounded sound as Mark tilts his head back and rocks in Johnny’s lap.

Johnny hisses, wanting more than anything to just _swear_, to whisper filthy words against Mark’s throat. He spreads his hands up Mark’s chest, his fingers searching for his pulse and he rolls his hips to meet Mark’s, starting a steady pace.

It’s dizzying how beautiful Mark looks with his throat bobbing, arms shaking on Johnny’s chest as the muscles of his stomach clench and relax. Maybe Johnny’s greedy, or maybe he’s impatient. But his hands start to wander again, pressing into the dip of Mark’s waist.

Mark is pliant in his arms as Johnny rises to lift his shirt over his head and kiss the hollow of his neck. They’re both achingly hard and Johnny can’t stand how in-the-way their clothes are now, how much better it would be if he could have Mark naked and eager beneath him.

“Come on-“ Mark murmurs against Johnny’s temple, nose in his hair. “Fuck me,” His voice is softly fervent and he rocks his hips again. Johnny whines, touch turning punishing.

Mark finds it a little breathtaking, the way Johnny closes his eyes and swallows down a groan, hands fall to grip and knead at Mark’s ass. His hair falls into his eyes and his teeth grit. Mark moves solely with the purpose of watching Johnny fall apart.

“_Johnny_.” And Mark’s equilibrium shifts, tipped back against the cushions as Johnny covers his body with his own. He moves with focus, tugging Mark’s jeans and underwear down his thighs.

Dizzy, Mark sucks in a breath when Johnny’s hand grips hot and wide around one thigh and presses it to his chest. 

Johnny is _never_ shy, Mark remembers belatedly as Johnny dips his head to suck a wet kiss against the crease of his thigh and his ass. He watches with heavy eyes as Johnny struggles to get himself out of his pants with one hand.

“Ah-“ Johnny makes a frustrated noise and Mark aches for him, heart thudding. He rests his hands in Johnny’s hair and searches out his gaze. There’s such a light there, such a want. Mark becomes aware that Johnny would bend to any of his asks, any of his desires. Sometimes there’s something you can’t hide in a look.

“Come up here-“ Mark whispers and Johnny _loves_ the way he sounds like that, softly demanding. He’s drawn up as thought by magnetism, irritation forgotten as Mark chuckles against his lips. 

“Let me-“ Mark pops the buttons of his pants and slides his hand inside and Johnny keens, face pressed to Mark’s hair. No lube, but Johnny is slick with his own fluids.

Johnny is already so hard, heavy in Mark’s palm and the drag of Mark’s palm is friction- hot, grip tight. Mark twists his wrist, searching for a more natural angle to learn the shape of him, just like he had done hours earlier with his very own wand. Johnny breathes heavily above him, so close for so long that within seconds of Mark touching him, he’s panting.

Mark spares him, urging him out of his clothes until Johnny can cover Mark’s body with his own. Their hips slot together and Johnny grips at his waist again, licking into his mouth desperately. Mark’s delighted to find his grip demanding, urgent. Johnny really is best at telling him what he’s feeling through touch. 

Johnny’s tongue slides against his own and Mark becomes keenly aware of how close he actually is. His cock weeps against Johnny’s and Johnny gazes down at him with a helpless expression. Mark feels how hard they both are, slick with their combined precome. Pleasure twists heavy behind his navel and Johnny begins rocking them together.

Colour high on his cheeks, his hair trembling in his eyes, Mark thinks Johnny looks breathtakingly beautiful. The tension in his abs as he rolls his hips against Mark’s, the way he stares at Mark’s mouth with a hungry expression.

“As usual, I might have to ask you to hurry things up.” Mark breathes, pawing at him. “I’m not going to last long…”

And Johnny knows he’s telling the truth for the way Mark trembles when Johnny thumbs at his cock. He lets Johnny push his legs up high and he gazes up at Mark as he presses his fingers dry against his rim. Swallowing, Mark nods at him, but Johnny only gazes back at him, expression thoughtful.

“Johnny-” Mark whispers, but Johnny is leaning away from him to fumble with the box on the coffee table. “Hey - what are you up to?” His hands drag down Johnny’s front and then he’s back, holding Mark’s wand out for him.

“What? Now?”

Johnny nods, and Mark hesitantly takes the wand.

“What do I do?”

Johnny runs his fingers dry again over his entrance and Mark shudders. Brows pinched, he frowns up at Johnny.

“I don’t know how to do that! What if I do something awful?”

Johnny only laughs, rich and amused, and guides Mark’s hand between them. He taps at his own temple with his free hand and closes his eyes. When he opens his eyes, Mark is staring back at him. 

With a huff, Johnny does it again and when he opens his eyes is pleased to see Mark has mirrored him.

“You don’t need a wand…” Mark whines quietly with his eyes shut, but Johnny only hums, running his palm along Mark’s thigh to calm him.

Mark doesn’t _really_ need to be told what to do, but he’s nervous nonetheless. The intent rushes through him, just as last time. With the wand in his hand, it feels supremely easy to imagine what he wants. Nothing complicated. He imagines Johnny pushing his thigh to his chest and pressing into him, big and hurtful and lovely as Mark is eased open.

He feels the wand plucked from his fingers, and Johnny kisses him as two fingers push slick and blunt at his entrance. 

“Oh god-” Mark moans, body still buzzing with magical energy. 

Johnny’s surprised to find two fingers sink in with relative ease. Mark holds his thighs open and Johnny sinks his fingers in as far as they’ll go, dizzy with how Mark grips him hot and tight.

“I fingered myself… this morning.” Mark’s eyes are dark, glassy. “In the shower.”

Flushing right up his neck, Johnny makes a soft sound as he sits up so he can watch Mark. He starts a rhythm, gentle but determined. Easing Mark open as a flush spreads over his pale skin, temping Johnny to bite and mark him until his skin is decorated with suck marks.

“Now- I don’t have to wait. Come on, I swear I’ll come like this.” Shaky with desperation, Mark tugs at Johnny to pull him up. He reaches for Johnny’s lips but Johnny presses a thumb to his lip instead, eyebrows pinched.

Johnny’s eager as hell, but it’s not right to abruptly cut short their prep. He spreads his fingers and Mark is a tight heat. He feels the give there, but it’s still too soon.

“I can- you have to go slow. We can do it.” Mark is watching the thoughts turn in his mind.

Johnny rolls his eyes, but Mark pulls his gaze back with a thumb under his chin. He doesn’t say anything, but he tugs Johnny close with a hand holding one thigh to his chest.

“Kiss me-“ Mark is breathless and Johnny _knows_ what it’s like to want to beg for that. To beg for what he wants.

Mark reaches between them, guiding Johnny’s cock to his entrance. Anxious, Johnny allows Mark to pull him flush, and his cock catches at Mark’s rim. Slick heat pulls him in and he stares as Mark goes nearly cross-eyed, head tilting back into the cushions. His knuckles are white where they grip beneath his knee, holding himself open for Johnny’s cock.

Overwhelmed, Johnny lets out a wounded sound. Mark’s body grips him and Johnny swears he’ll come from the sound of Mark’s whimper alone. He bottoms out and Mark breath catches on a gulp and that’s all he can feel; his breath and Johnny inside of him, almost hurtfully big.

“Come on... “ Mark begs. He pulls Johnny flush with a leg at his waist and grips at his ass, urging Johnny into a shallow rhythm.

It doesn’t take much. They’re both too far gone and Mark’s muscles jumping as he tries to accommodate Johnny’s girth bring them both spiraling down. Johnny falls first, a helpless gasp pressed into Mark’s hair as he pulses inside of him.

His thrusts, still slow, become sloppy and Mark cries as Johnny drags across his prostate one final time. Mark coils around him, pulling Johnny deeper and closer and shuddering on his cock. He spills between them, whimpering as kisses are pressed to his temple, his cheek. Johnny’s teeth catch on his lip and Mark swallows, heart full as he blinks wetness from his eyes.

Tension ebbs from his body and Johnny swears he can’t keep himself aloft any further. His muscles sing. Gingerly, he helps Mark lower his thigh, which must be sore. He rubs at the muscle there when Mark hisses. 

He’s apologetic, but when he falls heavy at Mark’s side, it’s due to necessity. He feels drained, sweaty. Even so, he viciously gathers Mark to his chest. He holds him and they breathe, bodies still buzzing and minds reeling.

When he peels his eyes open, Mark is gazing up at him, expression fond.

“How do you look at me like that.” Mark asks, but its rhetorical. His gaze travels over Johnny’s face and Johnny wonders the same. He pushes Mark’s hair back from his face and holds his cheek, thumb running just under his eye. Mark kisses him, slow, tender.

Johnny feels something release a little, inside of his chest. Something foreign, almost forgotten. He parts his lips, but then promptly snaps them shut.

Mark kisses at his jaw and whispers.

“Sleep.”

And Johnny does.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you'll visit for more Magical Mark hc!!
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/prittleceebs)  
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